


Trepidation

by Anracli



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Ectoincest, F/F, Tentabulges, Threesome - F/F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-02-07
Packaged: 2017-11-26 15:22:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/651762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anracli/pseuds/Anracli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shameless smut. Slightly off-canon/out-of-character.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kanaya waits for Rose to show up.

There was surprisingly little to busy herself with, even in the confines of the common area where various piles of things had accumulated. They apparently grew with each day that passed. Kanaya rubbed her bare arms, pursing her lips as she looked around the room. Her eyes darted to the doorways every few seconds. Every little sound set her at edge, ready to spring from her seat. It never failed to disappoint.

Kanaya decided it was time once again to take count of the various books left lying around. Pile after pile, left haphazardly on almost every available surface that wasn’t occupied by some other pile of objects. Cleanliness never seemed to be much of a priority on the meteor, nor did any sort of coordination when it came to the rugs, but that she could forgive. At the least it made the place feel like a home and less of a laboratory, though some had been worn so thin they did nothing against the hard metal beneath.

Rose still hadn't arrived. How much time had passed? She tried not to think of it, but the ticking of the clock behind her tempted her into turning around. An hour. Sixty minutes. Second after second come and gone. Kanaya had spent that time on the sofa, crossing and uncrossing her legs, flipping through the occasional book, arranging and rearranging bottles.

After the passage of an hour, she supposed it was high time to admit to herself something was wrong. Not that it made much sense. Rose had been the one to set everything up and she certainly wasn’t the type to be so tardy, especially for an event of her own planning.

At first she thought nothing of it as she got dressed, slipping on her daily attire. If Rose hadn't bothered with furnishing any details, she couldn't have been planning anything out of the ordinary. Doubt sank in as she thought of her first interactions with Rose, of the work she put into understanding human sarcasm in order to have some semblance of a conversation. It never stopped being puzzling to her, the things Rose said and did. Dave was equally puzzling, but he was easy to ignore as long as he kept his voice down--which he so often did--and didn't cross paths with Karkat--which seemed to happen less and less.

Kanaya adjusted her skirt, vaguely unsatisfied with what she put on. She had picked through the rest of her clothing, trying to decide exactly what Rose meant. Was it a date? Was it part of her romantic machinations? And what if it wasn't? Kanaya put aside thoughts of wearing nicer apparel--it would be easier to explain being underdressed than overdressed.

And yet here she was on the sofa in casual attire, trying to convince herself she had made the right choice. She leant back, letting out a slow breath as she stared at the ceiling. She willed it to offer her something in the way of answers. From there she could see part of the clock. Kanaya watched the second hand move along its predestined path, step by step, pausing at every hash mark. She watched until the clock rang, signalling the top of the hour.

Worse, it signalled she had been staring at the clock for almost fifteen minutes.

She crossed her arms, huffing slightly. Why would Rose take so long to show up? Perhaps this was not where they were supposed to meet? Perhaps it was an elaborate ruse, to see just how much she was willing to put up with? It wasn't as though the meteor was particularly large. It wouldn't take much time to get up and look, for Rose to poke her head in and ask for a bit of time as she got ready.

Of course, Kanaya had considered doing the same herself. It wouldn't be fair if she didn't. But what if she got up to look for Rose and they ended up just missing each other, doing so for the duration of the search? Such contrived shenanigans seemed to be the norm, even before she met Rose, before she knew what a human was.

Not that it explained what was taking so long. If Rose was looking for her, she surely would have come across her sitting in the common room. Granted, she might have caught her trying out various seating positions and, more embarrassingly, facial expressions. For what felt like hours, Kanaya thought she would practise holding conversations with Rose, running through different scenarios. She mouthed words, scripting her responses and actions for when Rose finally arrived. And when she tired of that, she flopped onto the couch, her arm across her eyes, and tried to nap. It wasn't much of a success. She got up almost immediately from her attempted nap, spending the next block of time fixing her hair and taming rebellious strands.

Frustrating. Absolutely frustrating. To sit there for--Kanaya turned to look at the clock, rolling her eyes as she settled back into position--to sit there for two and a half hours and not even be afforded the simple respect of being informed of what was going on. Just frustrating.

She got up from the couch, hands balled into fists as she stormed across the room. Heat rose in her face, every single step taken carefully and purposefully.

Something stopped her from crossing the doorway, from stepping over the threshold.

Kanaya thought of the way Rose looked when she set up the whole thing. She remembered the faintest hints in her expressions, the little quirks that betrayed her confidence, telling her that Rose was nervous--perhaps even afraid of rejection.

Letting out a calming breath, Kanaya loosened her hands. She stretched her fingers, examining them briefly. Something simply must have gone wrong. That's all there was to it. It just wasn't like Rose to be so late, regardless of the intended purpose of the meeting.

Her mind clearer, she stepped through the doorway.


	2. Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kanaya makes a dress for Rose while Porrim tries to pry information from her.

"What do you think of this?"

Porrim looked up from her book, a scandalous bit of blackrom literature she plucked from Karkat's collection. Kanaya had pinned a bit of green ribbon at the waist of a dusty pink dress and smoothed it against the fabric. She moved to the side, pushing aside a basket of various fabrics and tools with her foot, allowing Porrim to view the dress in full.

"This for Rose?" She slid her bookmark between the pages and stood. Kanaya looked away from her as she approached.

"Perhaps," she replied, looking down at the dress. The faintest hint of uncertainty crossed her face, gone as soon as it came. "I have not yet finalised the design. If nothing else, it will be good practise."

Porrim placed a hand at her waist as she slowly circled the mannequin. "A lighter green may be in order." She bent by one of the numerous baskets and pushed around bits of yarn and spools of thread before pulling out a length of green ribbon. With a slight grunt, Porrim stood, straightening her dress, and wrapped the ribbon around the mannequin. "What do you make of this colour? Do you find it amenable to your vision?"

"I will consider it." She smiled, unpinning the current ribbon and setting it back in the basket along with the ribbon Porrim picked out. "I think it is time to take a break," she said, letting out a sigh as she leant against a table. Her shoulders ached and her fingers stung, lasting reminders of the hours she had spent, making and remaking dress after dress.

"It would appear you're almost done."

"It would appear so."

"No need to doubt yourself; Rose will surely appreciate any gift you give her," she said, placing a hand on Kanaya's shoulder. Porrim smiled. "I hear she almost stood you up. How did your date turn out?"

Kanaya cleared her throat and turned away, busying herself with organising the various yards of fabric. Porrim chuckled and crossed the room back to the chaise, where she settled in easily. With a smile on her lips, she opened her book.

"'I can do this no longer', she shouted. Dark blood spilt from her lip, a delicious shade of chocolate." She paused and watched for Kanaya's reaction. When Kanaya simply continued to move around fabrics, Porrim resumed, "She threw her against the wall, her forearm pressing against her throat. The highblood laughed, pressing her knee between her assailant's legs, drops of blood staining the fabric of her--"

A sudden clatter from across the room broke Porrim's pace, taking her attention from the book. Kanaya was staring, a ball of multicoloured yarn in each hand. "Must you read that aloud?"

"Is it bothering you?" The corner of her mouth lifted into a smirk as she stretched her legs on the chaise. The book dangled loosely from her hand as she met the other's gaze. "I thought you liked these."

"I enjoy them privately."

"Oh?" Porrim arched a brow. "I'm not allowed to share in this enjoyment with you?" She left the chaise once more and approached Kanaya, drawing closer until she stood over her, knowing her presence was one Kanaya found imposing. She lowered her voice, taking the yarn from Kanaya's hands, tossing them into a nearby basket. "Does Rose know you enjoy such literature alone?"

Kanaya bit her lip, looking away from her dancestor. "We have our boundaries."

"What need have you for boundaries about literature? Or is it the things you do as you read?" Porrim took Kanaya's chin in her hand, turning her face towards her. "Do you also regard her with this sort of trepidation or am I the lone benefactor of such behaviour?"

Silence passed between them. Kanaya’s breaths seemed to leave in small bursts, sounds that left Porrim aching. "This is uncomfortable," Kanaya said finally. She pulled away, as though she could disappear into the fabric behind her. "It's really none of your business."

"I'm simply looking out for you, Kanaya. There's no need to be shy. I'm sure Rose is--" She halted, a devious smile crossing her lips. "Perhaps we could do a bit of roleplay."

"Roleplay what?"

"Oh, come on, you know. I'll pretend to be Rose and we'll practise how your first time will go about." Kanaya began to shake--Porrim wasn't sure if it was from anger until a laugh escaped her lips, allowing her to relax slightly. "Don't laugh. It'll be good practise. You trust me, yes?"

"Porrim, I'm not having sex with you--"

"I can't believe you would even say such a thing--"

"--I don't think Rose would even appreciate it--"

"--as though I were some sort of village two-wheeled device--"

"--it's just not proper--"

No longer interested in trying to speaking over her, Porrim grabbed Kanaya by the shoulders and took her to the chaise. She pushed aside the book and sat, smoothing the fabric of her dress over her knees. Kanaya took a seat beside her, her posture stiff and uncomfortable.

Porrim tied up her hair with a bit of ribbon, pulling it off her shoulders. "Now, let's begin."

"I said I'm not--"

"Calm down, Kanaya. We're not going to have sex. I just want to help you get over your nervousness." She patted her dancestor on the knee, an amicable enough gesture. "It's for the best. We wouldn't want you to freeze up and lose control of the situation, would we?" Porrim smiled.

 

Kanaya let out a breath, scratching her neck at the edge of her hair. "Very well." She took Porrim's hands in hers and intertwined their fingers. She looked at her fingers, admiring the neatness of her nails, the way Porrim’s fingers pressed against hers. "Rose,” she said, her voice quiet, “I think things are moving entirely too quickly, and we should proceed with caution."

Porrim rolled her eyes and leant towards Kanaya, parting her lips slightly. "I don't think we're moving quickly at all." She took her hand from Kanaya's and cupped her face, running her thumb across her cheek. "I'm ready for this, Kanaya. Very much so."

She sat frozen on the chaise. Porrim stared at her and it took everything Kanaya had to not look at the way her fangs ever so slightly poked out between her lips, the way her piercings glimmered in the light. She tried not to imagine where the swirls of her tattoos went, if they led to delightfully forbidden places. She tried not to imagine perching Rose between them, tried not to determine if that would express even a fraction of what she felt for either the human or her dancestor better than any dress.

Porrim tapped her cheek, bringing her out of her thoughts. "Kanaya? Are you okay?"

She smiled and nodded, pulling Porrim's hand from her cheek. "I'm very much okay. And I'm very much certain we're not ready for this." She leant forward, pressing Porrim against the chaise's armrest, and kissed her, a delicate gesture that quickly gave to hunger, her fangs pulling at her lips. Her hand trailed along Porrim's hip, pulling up the fabric of her dress. She slid her thumb beneath the fabric of Porrim’s underwear and let out a heavy breath.

Kanaya pulled away, still smiling. "I think that's break enough.”


	3. Roleplay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Virgo trolls pick up where they left off.
> 
> There is smut in here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for a forum thing.

Porrim had a strange idea of what constituted “help”.

Last week’s solution to Kanaya’s creative block required her to become deeply involved with her mannequin on a personal level—if such a thing was possible with an inanimate object. Porrim had clicked her tongue and said that kind of thinking was counterproductive before demanding she actually lick the mannequin. It was enough to make her leave the room. She could hear Porrim’s voice calling after her, telling her the mannequin was hurt and she was going to comfort it in her absence.

After yesterday’s failed attempt at roleplay, she found the fleeting thoughts she had then became far less so. (And really, what did she mean by comforting the mannequin in her absence? The possibilities drove her mad.) Kissing her dancestor, she supposed, was perhaps not the ideal course of action. It made fitting Porrim for a dress more awkward at the least.

“No, no, you should measure from here.” Porrim tugged the tape from Kanaya’s hand, moving it further up her leg.

“Would you like to measure yourself?”

“I would like to put the tape to better use, if that’s what you’re asking.”

The look on her face drove her mad. Kanaya didn’t ask her to elaborate on what would constitute a better use and instead continued measuring.

“Something has been on your mind.” The corner of her mouth quirked, her lip ring catching the light. “Perhaps you’d like to finish what you started? I would certainly like that.”

Kanaya narrowed her lips and tossed the tape into a nearby basket. She stood and went to the table, busying herself with the fabrics. “I hadn’t intended to do that.” There seemed to be far more styles and types of fabric than she was willing to work with. It was a challenge she hoped—

“Are you saying it was a mistake?” Even without seeing her, she could hear the amusement in her voice, the barely restrained smile on her lips. Most frustrating. “It’s not too late to change your mind, you know. About the roleplaying.”

Her throat tightened. She only had moments before it barred words entirely. “How far would you go?”

“Pardon?” The clicking of heels came closer, until Porrim was at her back. She placed a hand on her shoulder. Kanaya glanced at the neatly kept nails, thought of the way her fingers felt in her hand.

“How far,” she repeated, turning to face her, the hand leaving her shoulder in the process, “are you willing to go?” She felt her voice lower; it was nigh impossible to hear herself over the pounding of her chest, the discomfort in her throat neither growing nor passing.

Porrim smiled, an expression that reached her blank eyes, and leant in, pushing her against the table. The table dug into her back, straight and sharp through her shirt. Rolls of fabric fell, dropping to the ground with a thud. “Are you asking Rose or me?”

A moment passed as Kanaya ran her tongue over her teeth, eyes lowered. “Porrim. How far will you go for me?”

“What do you ask of me?” Closer she moved, her presence dangerous. She couldn’t let her take control.

With a sigh, she carefully slid one of the straps of Porrim’s dress off her shoulder and looked her in the eye with a look she hoped read as defiance. Or, at the least, not an embarrassing amount of frustration or desperation to appear worthy before her as she gripped her dancestor’s bare shoulder. The fabric hung loosely, revealing her breast, where the curls of and twists of her tattoos led.

Delightfully forbidden indeed.

When Porrim lifted her face by the chin, she realised her staring had betrayed what little leverage may have been previously afforded to her. Her hand tightened.

“Let’s pick up where we left off.” The older troll made no attempt to fix her dress and took the opportunity to press ever nearer. “I’ll pretend to be your matesprit. Is this okay with you?”

“Shall I call you by name, then?”

Porrim buried her face against her neck, eliciting a gasp on her part. “Call me what you like,” she said, her voice muffled against flesh.

Her hands wrapped about Kanaya and her fingers soon found their way under the seam of her shirt. They felt warm at her back, a sensation quickly gone when her top was removed, a rush of cold air engulfing her torso and neck. She returned the favour and slipped the remaining strap from Porrim’s shoulder. The dress fell with a quiet rush, leaving her dancestor quite naked before her.

“I see you hadn’t bothered with undergarments.” Her bulge curled, searching, between her legs.

“Are you surprised?”

“I may have a certain affinity.” The words tumbled out of her mouth, an unbidden confession. If it surprised Porrim, she showed no sign, instead dropping to her knees. She pulled down her skirt, revealing pale pink panties, a small horrorterror embossed upon the front. “As you may well see.”

She ran a finger along the edge of her nook, then traced the outline of the horrorterror. “These are Rose’s.” Amusement tinged her voice, her movements slow and maddening as her fingers travelled back downward.

Kanaya nudged Porrim to the ground and straddled her, following the path of her tattoos, a pleasant compliment to the deep curves of her body. She moved to remove her undergarments, but Porrim took hold of her wrist. She grinned, her breath warm on Kanaya’s face.

“It’s more fun this way, wouldn’t you agree? After all, you are wearing my clothing.”

Something pressed against her nook, undulating and squirming. Heat spread through her thighs as she reached behind her and slid aside the fabric. The appendage prodded curiously as it slid up and down her slit. “Is this okay?”

“Very much so.” Kanaya thought gleefully of how breathless Porrim sounded, pleased she was, at least presently, in control of the situation.

Her bulge slipped inside, easily filling her with its pulsating length. Kanaya squirmed, desperate to maintain superiority but finding it more and more difficult as Porrim moved within her.

She nuzzled against her neck and dragged her fangs across vulnerable skin. Heat built up between the two of them and her thighs started to ache. Kanaya turned her attention to her dancestor’s ear, taking its lobe between her lips, her every breath and moan seeming to push Porrim further along. Her long dark hair, musky and familiar, tickled her nose.

With one quick movement, she took her thick locks her hand, fist clenched tightly as Porrim rolled her hips, facilitating the movement of her bulge and grinding against her. Her breaths grew shorter, matching Porrim’s. Her control, her attempts to impress her ancestor, were fading away with every groan, with every whispered incoherent confession.

No longer a game, Kanaya could think little beyond the pressure between her legs. Beyond the way Porrim’s skin felt beneath her calloused fingers, soft and firm and an absolute delight to dig her nails into as she rode out her frustrations.

“Rose… I’m…”

Porrim squeezed her hips, nails digging into flesh as she pushed her down. Kanaya helped where she could, wishing she could feel her deeper, could sink further into her flesh. The cool air felt frigid through the thin layer of sweat, the heat between them unbearable. She pressed herself closer, nearer, the scent of a distant home on her dancestor’s hair.

Her movements became more erratic, energetic as she came closer, eliciting more than a few interesting noises from Porrim. Not to be outdone, the troll still managed to whisper encouragement into her ear, fingers twitching at her hips. The words didn’t matter much, only her lips at her ear, the faint brush of her piercing. The fact it was her dancestor beneath her, her dancestor inside her, her dancestor pulling and pushing and full of need.

She tensed, the tightness in her suddenly loosening as she climaxed. Porrim lifted her hips in response, spasming. Kanaya suspected she drew blood, but when the fog lifted from her eyes and her body allowed her some measure of control, she could see nothing on Porrim’s face but a faint smile.

Breath short, Kanaya lifted herself from the bulge and lay down, curling against her dancestor. Mixed genetic fluid ran down her shaking legs, likely staining the rug beneath them. A simple rearrangement would fix that. The panties would be more difficult to explain. She idly stroked the fabric, twitching with each accidental brush of her nook.

“Did it help?”

“What do you mean?” She propped herself on her arm, trying to read those empty eyes. She didn’t find much success.

“Your curiosity. Did it help?”

Kanaya chuckled and rolled onto her back. “I think I might have more questions than answers.”


	4. Defaced

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose gives Kanaya a Christmas present, and the troll is determined to repay the kindness.
> 
> There is smut in here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter used to be a standalone bit of flash fiction. Now it isn't!

Rose pulled her legs beneath her as she made herself comfortable on the couch. "It's a bit different than what you do on Alternia, but the concept seems much the same." She gestured toward the colourful and carefully wrapped box on the coffee table before her. "This is for you."

"Is there a behemoth..." She trailed off and picked up the box, removing the wrapping paper gently, keeping it in a single piece where she could. Once the box was uncovered, she removed the lid, revealing a book--a suspiciously familiar book. "Rose, did you give me a book from one of the piles in here?"

"Perhaps." The corner of her mouth quirked as she lowered her gaze briefly. She picked at her robes for a few moments before continuing. "It's not as though I have a lot of options. But please, take a look inside. I'm sure you'll appreciate it."

Kanaya lifted the book from the box, opening the cover. Inside was a short letter and a few doodles and notes. Most were in Rose's recognisable script, though there appeared to be a few additions--primarily in the form of phalluses and poetry--from Dave in his scratchy script. She flipped through the pages, noting the margins were filled with more comments and drawings, various words and sentences scratched out from the text and replaced.

"You've given me a defaced book."

"Yes."

They looked at each other for several moments--Rose on the couch, Kanaya on the floor by the table, the book open before her. The troll lifted a brow at Rose before breaking into a smile, no longer able to continue the charade.

"Much appreciated. I think I will enjoy rereading this with your commentary."

Rose rolled her eyes as she returned the smile. "You're terrible."

"It's the least I can do." She moved up to the couch and sat beside Rose. "After all the times you've—what is the phrase--jerked my chain in the past." Kanaya patted Rose on the knee and leant in close, resting her forehead against Rose’s. Her matesprit’s breath was warm and comforting, gentle and familiar. "I haven't a present for you," she said, her voice low.

"It's all right." Rose took Kanaya's hands into hers. "Receiving gifts isn't what's important. It's the thought that counts, contrived though the sentiment may be."

"I'd still like to repay you somehow. At least show my appreciation for the gift. It must have taken you some time to read through this."

Rose chuckled and pulled away. "It was more difficult to keep Strider from filling the book with his raps. I had to pacify him with other books to deface for Terezi and Karkat."

"Oh." Her voice was flat. Kanaya pursed her lips for a second before smiling again, pressing Rose onto her back on the couch. "Let's not waste another moment speculating about the others."

"I wasn't aware there was any speculation happening," Rose said. "Is there something on your mind?"

Kanaya buried her face in Rose's neck, breathing deeply and eager to avoid her question. "Yes. You smell wonderful." She licked Rose's ear, grazing her fangs across her flesh as her hand trailed down her hip, pulling the orange fabric of her robes up, reaching for the waistband of her pants. "The rest of you must smell just as wondrous."

"Perhaps you'll find out." Rose wrapped her arms around her waist. "Perhaps I can share some of that—mm..." Her breath caught in her throat as she closed her eyes, lifting her hips against her hand. Her neck felt oppressively warm as Kanaya mumbled something against her, the vibrations from her voice tingling Rose's skin. "Is this your gift...?"

A jolt ran up her spine, a knot tightening in her midsection as Kanaya's fingers continued to work through the fabric of her moistening underwear. Rose attempted to slip her pants off, but was stopped, Kanaya's hand tight at her wrist.

"I believe this is my gift to give, Rose." She said nothing in response and only stared with half-lidded eyes. "Let me give it to you in my own way."

Rose nodded, closing her eyes again as Kanaya let go of her arm and slid away. She felt her hips being lifted and then her pants were pulled off, cool air mixed with the heat of Kanaya's breath on her bare thighs.

"These undergarments are rather fetching. The lace is a nice touch. I believe it would be a waste if they were to be... ruined... in any way." Kanaya licked, pressing her tongue against the wet fabric. Rose took in a sharp breath and reached for Kanaya’s horns. She grumbled incoherently under her breath.

Kanaya slipped away, pulling Rose from her reverie. She groaned and opened her eyes, her midsection yearning. The troll had a bit of ribbon in hand and a mischevious smile on her lips. Up to no good as usual.

"Hands behind you. I can't have another interruption like that again, you know."

Rose complied, allowing Kanaya to tie her hands together at her back. "Am I to be your gift, Kanaya? Well, a backwards sort of gift, one you must wrap to enjoy." She leaned against the back of the sofa.

"It is a fortunate side effect." Kanaya took up position at Rose's feet, nudging her legs apart. "Now, no slipping out of your binds or you'll ruin the surprise." She pressed her nose against Rose, nipping at the warm flesh where her legs met her hips.

The thin layer separating her flesh from Kanaya's tongue drove Rose crazy as she bucked against her face, wrists straining against the ribbon. Her touch was gentle, the faintest pressure as her tongue traced thin lines upon her. She struggled to keep her legs apart, desperate to grab Kanaya by her hair and push into her.

Not a moment too soon, she felt the her underwear move aside and Kanaya's hot breath came upon her directly and filled her.

Pain crept up Rose's stomach; her movements drew blood against Kanaya's fangs, barely noticable in the face of her energetic ministrations. The knot in her stomach continued to tighten and her legs shook all the more. Her shoulders strained and the ribbon tightened at her wrists. Her throat closed and let out little, only the occasional whine as her hips rolled.

Kanaya held her fast, her nails digging into Rose's back. She let out a moan and leant forward, legs tightening around the troll's face, driving her tongue and lips closer to her. Kanaya pushed her back and she continued to buck and groan, toes curling, her cries breathless.

The knot soon snapped and Rose tensed, her body roiling and entirely too warm.

Eventually Rose calmed, her legs releasing their grip around Kanaya. She continued to give her a few licks and kisses, sending shivers down her spine.

"That's enough... Please." She leant back against the couch, trying to control the shaking of her legs. "It's quite enough."

The troll moved away, moving up onto the couch beside her. She removed the ribbon from Rose's wrists, kissing the reddened flesh. "Did you enjoy your gift?"

"I'm not certain," she replied, trying to restrain a smile. "It was difficult to ascertain the quality of the gift."

Kanaya laughed and picked up Rose's discarded pants. She folded them and set them on the table beside the book. "Need you a repeat performance?"

Rose waved a hand and leant against Kanaya, resting her head on her shoulder. "Let's just stay like this. Merry Christmas, Kanaya."

She kissed the top of her head. "A very merry Christmas to you."


	5. Curious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose receives the dress Kanaya made for her and intends to thank her. Porrim, however, influences the way she delivers her message.
> 
> There is smut here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for a forum thing.

Rose awoke to a small parcel at her nightstand, wrapped and finished with a purple bow. She yawned and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, sweeping the package into her lap with a large, awkward motion. An envelope was stuck under the ribbon, the familiar sight of Kanaya’s careful handwriting across its centre.

I Hope You Enjoy This Garment  
Porrim Helped Me With Its Creation

She removed the paper (plain, brown, and starkly utilitarian against the colourful bow) and opened the box, revealing a strapless dress, pale pink with green trim. Rose took out the dress, holding it with outstretched arms to take in its details. The neckline was lower than she would have liked, though the lace was certainly to her taste. It was the leather embellishments that was a bit new.

Unceremoniously she took off her robes and searched about for a clean pair of undergarments. New underwear on, breasts still bare to the chilly air, she slipped on the dress, adjusting it as best she could. Rose ran her hands across the fabric, fingers running over the stitches. A smile crept on her lips as she grabbed her tube of black lipstick. One quick (shaky, but oh so careful) application later, she left her room and searched the meteor for Kanaya.

When she pushed open the door to the common room, there were many things she expected to see. Dave and Karkat ensnared in yet another heated argument, suspiciously romantic despite their assertions otherwise. Terezi in her costume, sulking and quiet. Even one of the ghosts, making themselves at home on the meteor during their brief shared realities.

But Kanaya on the couch? With Porrim atop her as her matesprit traced the curves of her tattoos? That was unexpected.

More expected was the startled yelp, the sanguine way Porrim regarded her while the troll underneath scrambled to the floor, genetic fluid trailing down her thigh.

“I see I am interrupting something.”

Porrim smiled and settled into the couch, making no effort to dress herself. “Kanaya tells me she has been making great strides in her relationship with you.”

“Rose, please do not—”

“Will you fix the dress on me?”

Kanaya looked at her, eyes wide, and dropped the top she held clutched to her chest. “Pardon?”

She turned, pointing a finger over her shoulder. “I can’t fix the lacing on the back. I would like to see what it looks like when worn properly.” Rose met her gaze, the corner of her lip quirking as Kanaya approached, her mouth set as she adjusted the garment.

“That looks much better,” Porrim said, rising from the couch. “Strapless was definitely a good choice, Kanaya. Look at these shoulders.”

Before she could respond or turn around, the heat of breath was upon her neck and hands slowly ran up her arms. Long hair tickled at her skin, soft and warm. Rose giggled and melted under Porrim’s touch.

Then all at once the heat was gone. She turned to see Kanaya pulling Porrim aside, the two of them still quite naked and, if Porrim’s bulge was any indication, still quite in the mood. Alien biology wasn’t her forte, but now would certainly be a good time to begin. She approached the two and grabbed their hands, soft in her grip.

“I believe I need help removing this lovely dress you’ve made for me, Kanaya.”

Porrim chuckled. “I told you she would remember what she said on your date.”

“You told her?” Rose tilted her head, trying to keep her eyes off her tattoos, keep her mind from imagining what Kanaya would look with such decoration. “What else has she been telling you?” She wanted to sound cross, perhaps threatening, but the smile pressed her lips upward and she was unable to find the anger she wanted to feel. After all, it was Porrim. Porrim. Kanaya had spent hours just rambling about her and, in the process, built a strong enough case for Rose’s hypothesis.

Quick to pick up her game, Kanaya’s hand stopped trembling. She exchanged glances with Porrim, looks so brief it couldn’t have been coincidence when the two moved in sync, Kanaya at her back pulling the lacing loose and Porrim before her on her knees. Fingers pressed against her thighs and lips pressed against her panties as the dress came over her head.

“We wouldn’t want to ruin the present you worked so hard on,” Porrim said, the vibrations of her voice ensuring that if she wasn’t in the mood before, she certainly was now. “I believe returning to the couch would be ideal. Quite a bit softer than the floor.” In what was quickly proving to be a pattern, Porrim scooped her up and strode across the room without waiting for a response.

“Now.” She put her hands at her hips (her bare hips, thick and supple, the twists of her tattoos complementing the curves of her body). “How would you like to proceed?”

Rose shifted on the couch scooting back so her head rested on the arm. “Perhaps while you think about it, you could get me caught up? After all, the two of you had a head start and it would be most discourteous not to lavish upon me the same attention.”

Porrim grinned and leant over her, hair falling over her face, fire in her empty eyes—the same passion she saw in Kanaya between her legs, fangs pricking her—

Something curled at her panties, plying at the elastic. Rose bit her lip, gooseflesh prickling her skin as Porrim moved away from her.

Kanaya settled on the couch arm, allowing Rose to rest her head on her lap. She ran her fingers through her hair, thin and fine, her movements steady and gentle.

Rose felt the moistened fabric move aside; Porrim’s bulge found her warmth and teased at the edge of her wetness. The troll had mindfully kept her hips back, affording only the barest of touches for her curious bulge.

“May I?”

Rose looked up at Kanaya. “May she?”

Kanaya laughed. “Of course.”

“It’s not often someone like me gets to experience something this new,” Porrim said, her voice breathy, heavy with anticipation. She massaged Rose’s thighs, her finger writing what she hoped was alien poetry upon her. Porrim slid a finger inside and murmured. She leant over Rose towards Kanaya, beckoning her close for a moment while she worked another finger inside of Rose.

The sight of the two trolls above her exchanging the briefest of kisses apparently had a greater effect on her than she anticipated. She felt herself clench against Porrim’s fingers, her body aching when she withdrew her wet fingers. Fortunately, the disappointment didn’t have time to settle.

Porrim’s tentacle writhed, curled and tightened, twisted and explored inside of her. It was delightfully alien, the familiarity Rose otherwise felt with regards to troll anatomy thrown entirely out the window. She wrapped her legs about Porrim’s hips and pulled her closer, wondering if Kanaya felt like she did, like she couldn’t get close enough, that it was all still too far.

She could feel Kanaya still running her fingers through her hair, tensing as Porrim worked into her. Rose knew well what it meant and reached behind her, fumbling about Kanaya’s body before she could properly grab hold of her hips (it was a valiant effort to keep her cool, but it simply wasn’t meant to be, not against a far more experienced troll, the kind of person who seemed to have a knack for murmuring the right noises of encouragement, for knowing which way to move when Rose’s breath caught just so). She pulled, groaning slightly as she tried to get Kanaya into position.

“Come here,” she finally said, the words tumbling from her mouth with need, the fire building between her legs as Porrim moved against her. She yearned to have that heat against her mouth, and not a moment too soon Kanaya finally acquiesced.

Her nook was over her, musky and wet and everything she wanted. Rose grabbed her hips, dug her fingers into the flesh and began, the alien taste of her (blackest coffee and caramel, fresh spilt coppery blood and lavender, confusing and amazing on her tongue) well in sync with the alien sensation between her legs, like millions of fingers caressing each crevice and fold.

Rose held off as long as she could until she drank her fill, but Porrim made the task impossible. Lightning ran through her as Porrim drove into her. She dug her nails into Kanaya, her groans swallowed up by her flesh.

While she twitched and the bulge slipped out with a squelch, Rose continued her ministrations. She tried to mimic the movements she had felt earlier, to match the dance of Kanaya’s tongue from before, writing what she hoped was love upon the troll’s nook. Perhaps a muddled message of love. It was difficult to focus when her legs still shook, when Porrim was pressed against her, hands wandering.

When Kanaya climaxed, she tightened her grip and held her in place. Kanaya cried out, legs shaking violently at her head. Rose felt Porrim move against her, reaching for her dancestor.

A rush of cool air washed over Rose as Kanaya moved away. Porrim also stood, in search of a bit of fabric for Rose to wipe her face with. Once she cleaned up, they settled back into the couch together, a tangle of limbs and soft kisses and warm murmurs.


End file.
